A Villain's Will to Survive novel Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Lokralen (3)

"Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—!”

“... W-what the hell’s wrong with hah?” Rogerio shuddered, rubbing her arms as if she got a goosebump.

“She’s been locked in time,” I replied, inspecting the woman’s face beneath her hood.

Her face was frozen in a scream, eyes wide with terror, letting out an unbroken wail. The rhythm of her cries, the faint twitch of her pupils, and the creases in her skin all repeated in a constant loop. Her name tag read 963—a year before Lokralen was abolished.

"Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—! Aaahhhhhhhh—!”

"Rogerio, can you silence this wailing?"

“Ah, ‘course.” Rogerio quickly wrapped her in a Silence spell. The sound stopped, but her horrifying expression and statue-like stance stayed the same. “To keep this goin’ long, I’m gonna need a mana stone. Anyone got one?”

Kreto reached into his inner pocket, handed over a crystal orb, and asked, "Will this be sufficient?"

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Rogerio replied, securing the Silence spell with the crystal orb as a medium and infusing it with a bit more of her mana. “That oughta do it. But, Deculein, ya said not to touch her. Why’s that?”

"There’s a significant risk of being locked in time as well. She’s radiating an aura of severe contagion," I explained.

At my words, tension spread across everyone’s faces.

Lokralen cleared his throat and addressed the mages in the room, saying, "I apologize, everyone. Due to this unfortunate incident, the conference will be temporarily suspended. Please return to the hotel—"

“No,” I interrupted him.

Simultaneously, I dispatched my Wood Steel shuriken to the first-floor exit with orders to prevent anyone from leaving.

“Sorry? What do you mean, no?” Lokralen asked, his brow furrowing.

I calmly stepped forward and declared, “No one in this building will be permitted to leave.”

“Professor Deculein, despite your authority, I am the president of this conference. So—”

“There is a host among us.”

“A host?”

I scanned the faces of the attendees, recognizing several prominent figures, and commanded, “Everyone, remove your hoods and reveal your faces.”

The reaction was swift and intense. Lower-ranking members, like Relin, promptly removed their hoods, while those from prominent families or older individuals bristled at the implication.

“Professor Deculein, what is the meaning of this nonsense—”

“Deculein, don’t you recognize me? I am Gaelon, Gaelon!”

“Even if there is a host among us, it certainly isn’t me! I don’t even know what a host is!”

“... It doesn’t matter who you are,” I said, feeling the strain on my mana as I addressed the crowd. There were many to hear, but I spoke with unwavering conviction. “The host is among you, and I will find out who it is.”

Just then...

“Aaah!”

A scream erupted from the first floor, prompting us to descend immediately.

“Oh my gawd...” Rogerio muttered, flinching in shock.

There was no need for us to go all the way down.

“Aaah—!” _{fɾēewebnσveℓ.com}

On the stairs between the first and second floors, a figure was trapped in an endless climb. Step by step, they ascended—Aaah—only to restart from the bottom—Aaah—.

“This... looks wicked serious.”

“Aaah—! Aaah—!”

The name tag matched the previous victim’s, reading the year 963.

Rogerio turned to me, visibly shaken, and asked, “This is wicked freaky, Deculein. How does somethin’ like this even happen?”

“I don’t know. However...” I said, glancing at the others trailing behind us—Lokralen, Allen, Epherene, Kreto, Delpen, Relin, Bizetan, Gaelon, Essensil, and others. “Rogerio, seal the entrance. Ensure that no one leaves.”

“Gotcha.”

“No, Professor! What if we all end up like that, locked in time? I am the president of this conference—”

Rogerio swiftly restrained Lokralen’s protests. Once on the first floor, he sealed all the doors leading outside with Ductility.

***

Twelve hours had passed in Lokralen. Epherene reached the dining hall tucked away in a corner of the first floor. Fortunately, there were ample ingredients, enough to stave off any concern about starvation.

Epherene turned to Allen, who had followed her, and said, “Assistant Professor Allen, you must be hungry.”

"No~ I can manage," Allen replied, shaking his head, though Epherene’s stomach continued to growl.

"Come now, don’t pretend. Let’s cook together."

"Do you know how?"

"Of course," Epherene said, then began cooking with magic.

Chop-chop-chop—

Swish-swish-swish—

With a single motion, the ingredients floated into the air, slicing themselves and roasting over a magical flame.

"Assistant Professor, could you bring the plates?"

"Oh, certainly!" Allen replied, impressed, as he quickly brought the plates at Epherene's request.

In thirty minutes, their meal was prepared. They headed to the Round Table Conference Room on the third floor, where Deculein, Rogerio, and the other professors were engaged in deep discussion.

"We’ve brought some food. Please feel free to eat while you continue your discussion," Epherene offered.

"Hey! Can’t you see we’re in the middle of an important discussion?" Relin snapped, glaring at her while shaking his fist.

Rogerio smacked Relin’s head and said, "Honestly, I’m staahvin’, so I appreciate it."

"Oh, I see."

"You’re Epherene, right? Thanks, just leave it heah."

"Okay."

Allen served the dishes to each professor as Epherene stood quietly behind the round table, listening to their discussion.

"... Hmm. So, only the folks from the future are gettin’ targeted?" Rogerio asked while eating.

"It is strongest in the future, so it targets those from that time first," Deculein replied, his gaze fixed on the book as he spoke.

Rogerio glanced at the cover and asked, "What’s in that book? ... Wait, ain't that a book from the year 963? How’re ya readin’ it so easy?"

"It reads itself to me."

Despite Deculein’s mana capacity being one of the lowest in Lokralen, his exceptional mental strength greatly reduced the mana cost’s percentage, granting him considerable freedom even in this place.

"By the way, Head Professor, may I ask who was in the underground archive?" Relin asked suddenly.

Epherene’s body tensed.

Deculein did not respond. Instead, he turned to Rogerio and asked, "Rogerio, how many floors underground does it go?"

"I ain't too sure. Heard it goes down pretty deep."

"Hmm... Why would they construct an archive underground?" Deculein muttered as he continued reading. The book’s cover read Lokralen Architectural Plans, Revised Edition, Year 963.

Rogerio shrugged and said, "How’m I supposed to know?"

"... Rogerio," Deculein said, suddenly looking up and fixing her with a stern gaze.

Rogerio replied, "Wha’s up?"

"What is your age?"

"... Why ya askin’ that now?"

"Because you continue to address me far too informally."

"My rank’s higher, ain’t it?" Rogerio said, crossing her arms with a chuckle.

Deculein closed the book with a sharp snap, causing Rogerio to flinch.

"... Rogerio," Deculein said, his gaze cold and unwavering.

"Wha’s up?"

"Rogerio."

“Huff, huff...”

“Sigh... How could this happen? What’s going on?”

“Phew...” Lokralen muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. He walked over to a chair and sat down, opening his diary.

Lokralen. From the moment I set foot here, I knew. This is my true home, my eternal resting place...

As the president of Lokralen, there's no way an event like this could happen without my knowing! Lokralen thought.

The one responsible for the Locked in Time incident that Deculein mentioned has been uncovered. Cursed witch...

I must inform Deculein immediately!